


Pray to me ...beg me

by Lumeriel



Category: Onyx Equinox (Cartoon)
Genre: (although not in the way Tezcatlipoca thinks), Brief mentions of myths, First Time, Gay Sex, M/M, Mentions of blood (cos... u know), Mildly Dubious Consent, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Episode 12, Power Imbalance, Sibling Incest, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:27:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28651998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeriel/pseuds/Lumeriel
Summary: After losing the bet, Quetzalcóatl visits Tezcatlipoca, who may feel merciful… if Quetzalcóatl agrees to pray, to beg.Warning: More tender and less sadomasochistic than the summary sounds.
Relationships: Quetzalcoatl/Tezcatlipoca
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Pray to me ...beg me

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Rézame… ruégame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28652382) by [Jadhy666 (Lumeriel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeriel/pseuds/Jadhy666). 



> Oh here I go again! I had to write the sexy part, definitely.
> 
> This one-shot is unrelated to the other one I wrote about this couple.

Quetzalcóatl is like his name: fragile and dangerous, beautiful and deadly. Tezcatlipoca knows it. Among all the gods, only Quetzalcóatl has always stood up to him - a worthy rival, an opponent who gives energy and flavor to the game. Tezcatlipoca has enjoyed this dance for too long: each victory has been a cause for celebration, each defeat has served to make him rise more powerful. Until today, it was always a game. Until today.

He can see the disappointment in the other god's golden eyes - his brother, his rival, his competitor… and so much more. He knows that Quetzalcóatl did not think that this day would come: the day when the dance between the two of them would come to an end. Quetzalcóatl's words only confirm what he thinks.

"I shouldn't have underestimated your ambition, brother."

Even Quetzalcoatl's voice is beautiful - and dangerous as an obsidian blade.

"I shouldn't have underestimated your hate."

Tezcatlipoca stops listening to the deep voice, almost too calm… and he hears the words. Ambition? Hate? Oh yes! Two things that Tezcatlipoca possesses too much and relief refreshes the entrails of the god when he realizes that the other has not seen further.

He reclines on the stone throne, legs spread, feeling the carved rock against the muscles of his back and under his spread hands. His gaze travels over the human figure of Quetzalcóatl - no feathers, no mask, without an elegant green snake resting on his shoulders and around his waist.

"You proposed the bet," he reminds him. “You didn't expect your little pawn to fail you. You cheated to make sure it didn't happen.”

"And Yáotl wasn't working for you? Even though you were supposed to give him to me.”

"Why would I give my best champion to someone who wants to destroy me?"

For the first time, Quetzalcóatl's almost adolescent face expresses shock, surprise.

"Destroy you?” he repeats in perfect daze copy. “How could I want to destroy you? We are brothers, Yayauhqui.”

A roar of anger clouds the black god's senses. With one leap, he rises to his feet and descends the steps of the throne.

"You tend to remember the blood that binds us together when you fight your traps, snake," he declares violently.

"I always remember it," the younger replied calmly.

Above Tezcatlipoca's head, the dark mirror flashes with a thousand emotions, with the rage of the universe.

Always. Always… and isn't that the problem? May Quetzalcóatl remember the blood that bind them... always? And that Tezcatlipoca wants to forget it... always?

"Have you come to beg me to reconsider?" He scoffs, turning his face away from him. “You have come to ask me for mercy, to remind me of what we are so that I’d give you back your power, the blood of your sacrifices.”

"I came because I assumed you would have things to say to me. I would not waste my time begging for mercy from a god I know does not possess it. You forget that I am the one who knows you best, brother.”

Does he? Tezcatlipoca feels the laughter swell his chest.

_No, Quetzalcoatl; you don't know me. You know only the surface of the abyss that hides the obsidian mirror. You do not know what is hidden under the blood of the sacrifices, under the darkness, under the skin of the jaguar, under the beauty of a thousand naked bodies, under the paintings that cover my face and body. You don't know me at all._

"Maybe ... I decide to be merciful this time. After all, you are my brother.”

Quetzalcóatl's surprise satisfies him. And he is suspicious of him. He sees the golden eyes narrow, run over him as if looking for a trap ... and heat explodes in his belly.

"Merciful ... you?" There is a note of mockery in the way Quetzalcoatl's eyebrows rise, in the way the left corner of his mouth curves up.

Tezcatlipoca’s metallic eyes flash like mirrors as they follow the curve of his lower lip. In his throat, a thirst to which he has already become accustomed burns - his soul knows that only blood can quench that thirst, blood that he would drink from generous and pale lips, parted lips that would moan his name...

"You don't know me as well as you think, Quetzalcoatl," he finally remarks, throwing his head back, purposely ignoring the fire stirring in his gut.

Quetzalcoatl squints as he leans his head over one shoulder.

"What would you ask for in exchange for your… mercy?"

_Your mouth._

_Your taste._

_Your skin._

_Your scent._

_Your blood._

_You…_

Quetzalcóatl shows no surprise when Tezcatlipoca advances towards him like a beast, displaying fangs and flashing eyes. He is used to the anger of his older brother - which comes like a hurricane, without warning and likewise calms down.

“Pray.”

The voice of the god of the night is like the roar of thunder, deep and dark as his skin.

“I see…”

"Pray," he repeats closer and closer, his shoulder muscles flapping like a jaguar preparing to attack.

The smile parts Quetzalcoatl's soft mouth.

"Do you want me to get down on my knees and kiss the ground pleading with you ...?"

The voice dies down on his lips and his eyes widen. Tezcatlipoca's dark nails dig into his flesh, under his cheeks.

"Pray," he orders again, through clenched teeth.

“Tezcatlipoca… broth…”

Quetzalcoatl stifles a gasp of surprise when the grip on his face changes and the other god's two hands hold his head, forcing him to bend his neck back.

Tezcatlipoca is so close that the heat of his bodies is one. The eyes of the ‘feathered serpent’ seek the face of the older god, inquisitive; but Tezcatlipoca's gaze is fixed lower, on the now closed lips that should be begging.

"Pray," he insists in a thick whisper. “Beg me to be compassionate, to reconsider, to think about the balance that you and I bring to the world. Beg me to forgive you, to forget the bet… _Beg me, Quetzalcóatl_.”

He loosens the hands that hold the other god's head almost painfully. With his eyes fixed on the closed mouth, he moves his thumbs and traces the curve of the lower lip with his nails. A fine cut breaks the skin and a drop of golden blood slides onto Quetzalcóatl's chin.

Desire and hunger merge in a whirlpool that stirs his power and his flesh.

"Pray to me," he orders again, his tongue heavy. “Pray to me like I'm _your god_.”

Before Quetzalcóatl responds, Tezcatlipoca leans over and with the tip of his tongue, wipes the drop of blood, traces the outline of his mouth ... and goes crazy.

Quetzalcóatl does not even think about fighting when the other takes his mouth by storm ... and devours it. Stunned, he allows Tezcatlipoca to invade and plunder, to play with his tongue, to explore his palate, to sink his teeth into his lip and pull, sucking, drinking the sweetly gushing blood.

Lust boils in Tezcatlipoca's head and chest. His skin burns as if the sun is rising from it. His heart trembles, unbridled. He throws his head back - the taste of Quetzalcóatl already forever tattooed on his tongue - and with his gaze fixed on the endless roof of the temple, he understands that there is no turning back, that he has finally taken the leap that he refused for so long.

“Tezcatlipoca ...”

Quetzalcóatl's voice is quiet, uncertain, almost… fearful… and Tezcatlipoca growls before claiming his mouth again.

"Pray," he demands between gasps, continuing to kiss and bite. “Pray that your god favors you. Pray that I accept you. Pray that your god loves you. Pray...”

His voice dies down as his hands descend on Quetzalcoatl's neck, shoulders, waist. Under his rough caresses, his slim body shakes, twists, arches… but he does not flee and that is enough for Tezcatlipoca to tear clothes and necklaces.

He does not go away to contemplate him - every detail of this body is etched in his memory, in his soul, in his bowels. Instead, he runs it with desperate hands, tearing little red grooves on the ribs, around the nipples, below the navel.

"Pray," he repeats as he licks over the beating heart, before catching his nipple between his teeth and sucking as if he could drink from it.

"Pray," he insists as he pushes down, forcing Quetzalcoatl to collapse diaphanously on the ground and lie down as an offering, and open for him as a sacrifice.

"Pray," he demands as he traces with his tongue a path from his throat to his navel and sinks his teeth where belly meets hips, harvesting surprised groans.

"Pray," he demands as his mouth rises over the hard, erect sex to kiss hungrily and reverently the silky, wet tip.

_Pray_ , he sings in his mind as he devours his cock, as he slides his spread hands down the other god's taut thighs.

_Pray_ , he breathes against his pelvis as the warm seed of the air’s god spills down his throat and his nails brush against his tight, throbbing entrance.

He lets go of the half-hard sex to look further down. His tongue invades, drawing broken groans from Quetzalcóatl and Tezcatlipoca remembers all the times he sank into a body dreaming this dream.

Quetzalcóatl does not fight, he does not resist. His hips dance toward his mouth, that assails his most intimate corner with desperate sweetness. His nails scratch the stone as pleasure rises from the spiral he had fallen into a moment before.

Tezcatlipoca stands tall. His head spins, his lungs burn, his chest explodes ... By sheer instinct, he releases enough power to evaporate his clothes, which dissolve into black smoke. He looms over the wailing god, broken with pleasure on the flagstones of his temple, and now he does take a second to admire him, to etch the image in his memory, to convince himself that he will not renounce this.

Quetzalcóatl's voice rises in a long, musical, wild moan as Tezcatlipoca invades and claims. His insides clench stubbornly around the tough flesh.

There is no room for a sigh between them when Tezcatlipoca stops. Their skins touch, wet and hot. Their breaths mingle. Tezcatlipoca's sex throbs inside Quetzalcóatl.

He moves slowly, just waving his hips, thrusting into the narrow tunnel of flesh and desire that hug him. Quetzalcóatl's waist ripples with his rhythm - his hard cock dangles on his belly marked by nails and teeth. With his mouth parted in an eternal moan and his head thrown back, the 'feathered serpent' surrenders again.

"Pray," Tezcatlipoca repeats, his mouth against his ear, the thrust of his hips intensifying, reaching deeper, wanting to sink where no one can ever reach.

Quetzalcóatl does not respond. His hands twitch on the other god's back and hair. His nails rip through black flesh, dig into his neck. His parted lips produce a powerful chant of wordless lust. His body trembles at the edge of the abyss, at the center of the universe.

"Pray!" Tezcatlipoca roars, tearing his throat with his teeth, desperately licking his blood, angrily grasping his hips as Quetzalcoatl's orgasm soaked their bellies.

"Pray!" He groans, fucking him through pleasure, plunging into a black hole of helplessness and ecstasy.

"Beg me to love you," _he pleads_ , filling him with the essence of him, squeezing him in the hem of his arms until the crunch of bones meets the ragged gasp and the moans are both pain and pleasure pouring out of that rebellious mouth.

The silence follows, broken only by the uncontrolled breathing of both.

They have changed position: Tezcatlipoca lies on his back on the ground while Quetzalcóatl rests on his chest and his belly like a beautiful and limp doll. One of Tezcatlipoca’s hands holds a thigh of the other god and the other combs his silver hair, spread over shoulders and bare back. Tezcatlipoca's cock continues to fill Quetzalcóatl's interior, retaining his seed within him.

Slowly, Quetzalcóatl raises his head and seeks the gaze of his rival and brother. They contemplate each other in silence for a few seconds. Quetzalcóatl slightly parted his lips and modulated without noise: _‘Please.’_


End file.
